


Completion

by Swedishlassie



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, F/M, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28070979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swedishlassie/pseuds/Swedishlassie
Summary: Our beloved Frasers are hard working successful professionals by day, Jamie as the ceo of a prominent distillery, Claire as head surgeon at the local hospital, but by night, they like to play.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 16
Kudos: 104





	Completion

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot is an exploration of boundaries, of trust, of devotion. Yes it’s smut, it’s definitely NSFW, but it’s also about something beautiful shared between two people who love each other without reservation. 
> 
> In this fic there’s bondage involved, blindfolding and powerplay. If that's not your thing that's ok, but then maybe this fic isn’t for you. 
> 
> Otherwise, dive in, enjoy and let me know what you think in the comments! 
> 
> A huge thank you from the bottom of my heart to my amazing betas, era_r, rwleispiach and aussieoutlander. If it wasn't for you i would never have finnished this thing, let alone post it. I love you!  
> (any mistakes are solely my own)
> 
> ps. On twitter I'm @swedishlassie78, check out the moodboard there if you like ;))

Her head fell back on the pillow, her chest heaving from exhaustion. 

"Please Jamie, please. I… I can't…" She was sobbing, pleading. "I can't do this… You have to… Just..." Her voice trailed off, unable to find the words she needed, the words that would free her from this tormented state.

"I have tae, what?" he growled. 

The tone in his voice was sharp, with a very specific edge that made her tremble, and she couldn’t help a moan escaping her lips. 

"I have tae… _What_ ?” he repeated. "I _need_ ye tae tell me, mo nighean donn. I need ye tae say it."

Helplessly, she tugged at the ropes binding her wrists and turned her head from side to side, trying to figure out where he was in the room. She could hear him moving around but all she could see through the black piece of cloth covering her eyes, were shadows.

She had no choice if she wanted this to end, if she wanted her release. 

She needed him. She needed everything he was able to give her. Every inch of her skin was yearning for his touch. Every part of her body was screaming for release. The ache in her core had become unbearable, throbbing in a way she'd never felt before.

Sighing deeply and unable to take another moment of waiting, she gave in. Her entire body was trembling, but her voice was surprisingly steady as she said what he wanted to hear.

"I need you to fuck me, Jamie. I need to be fucked. Now"

\-------------

Hours ago, her husband had texted her. A simple line; only six words, but their meaning, the promise they held, sent shivers down her spine.

**I'm going to make you beg**

She wasn’t shocked, after all, they had played this game before. What she felt was excitement and she could not wait for him to come home so they could start. But was it really a game when the things they did, he did, made her feel more alive and real, than anything else could ever do? When it felt as if every single molecule she’s made of came to life, simply by him looking at her _that_ way? 

Was it _just_ a game when every fiber of her being burned with anticipation by the mere thought of what that text implied? 

No. She didn’t think of it as a game any longer. It had become a part of who they were together, a part of how they connected with each other. 

When they lay next to each other in the afterglow, whatever _it_ had been at that exact moment, she was certain they shared a soul. There was simply no way of telling where she ended and he began; everything so perfect there existed no doubt or questioning or regret. 

Only them. Separated from the rest of the world, completely in sync with each other, her heart beating in time with his, everything else fading into oblivion. 

_Completion_. 

As she made herself ready for the night ahead, she kept returning to _that_. More than anything else, completion, was the reason for it all. 

_He_ was the reason for it all. 

She showered, shaved, dotted perfume on her wrists and between her breasts, and picked out lingerie, all the while her head spinning, her body restless, her skin buzzing. 

By the time she heard his car pull up outside their house, she was ready, and perfectly calm. There was nothing more that she had to do, nothing more she had to think of or prepare for, and the knowledge of that brought her peace. In that, and of itself, there was relief. It was all up to him from this point onwards, and she trusted him to take care of her the way she needed to be cared for, to be looked after. 

In all aspects of her life, she was always in charge. She was confident, determined, bossy even, some might say. As much as she didn’t want it any other way, it was also exhausting. So when he, on one occasion, had suggested they play around with some props - the tie he had worn that evening at his company's annual dinner party they had attended, she had complied, intrigued and curious. 

The second he tied her wrists together behind her back with the silky black material, she felt a rush of calm unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, and she knew, at that moment, she wanted to feel that way again. And again. And again. 

What he had done to her, what they had done, that first time had been mind blowing. Just the thought of it sent her spiraling, and was to this day probably one of the strongest memories she had. Almost as strong as their wedding day all those years ago. 

This newfound experience had opened up a new world to her, to them both — a world of trust.

Of power and submission. 

Of giving and receiving. 

A world where there was no guilt or shame or owing someone anything. 

A world where she was free and powerful, but without the burden of responsibility. 

She had handed him the power to do with her body, and her heart, as he wished, and he had never fallen through on that. In return, he always made good on the promises he gave her, always saw her safe and well and protected.

_Trust_

As simple and as complicated as that.

\-------------

She was sitting on her knees, on the floor, in the hallway, just as he liked it. Her hands neatly folded in her lap, her back to the door and her hair loose and hanging over her shoulder, exposing her elegant neck. On the floor to her right lay a strip of black cloth, a rope made of a soft, but very sturdy material, and a small whip. Her heart was pounding. The arousal that had been building ever since she read the text, was like a small flame in her core; slowly burning in anticipation for what was to come.

The silky white lace panties she’d put on half an hour ago were already damp, every thought in her mind of what she wanted to happen tonight causing a jolt of heat to rush through her body. Her nipples were poking through the matching lace bra, revealing exactly how she felt. The uneven patterns of the lace chafing pleasantly against them, sending little shivers through her, making her toes curl and her belly flutter. 

But she was calm and ready and hopeful on the verge of giddy.

She waited with bated breath as he opened and closed the door, not waiting for her to answer it. She heard him take off his jacket and shoes, and then walked over to her where she was sitting on the hardwood floor. He didn’t say anything but she could sense it; the air was suddenly thick and electrified, the little hairs on her arms and neck stood up as she felt his presence behind her. The only sound in the room was their breathing and her own heartbeats echoing in her ears. 

He came around and stood in front of her - both of them still silent - her head bent but through hooded eyelids she could see his bare feet and jeans covered legs. His fingertips ghosted her jawline, one finger under her chin tilting her head upwards.

“Look at me.”

His voice. 

The mere sound of it sent shivers down her spine. She swallowed and did as he demanded.

“I’ve missed ye,” he said. When their eyes met there was softness in his gaze, and he looked at her with so much love, it almost made her tear up. She had missed him too, she always did when they weren't together. But this time he had been away for over a week on business which made this, what was about to happen here tonight, even more special. 

He hadn’t given her permission to speak, so she just nodded, biting her bottom lip to stifle her response. The look in his eyes changed immediately, shifting to something darker than tenderness, something more fierce than love.

Lust. 

Ownership.

Possession.

Without another word, he took off his t-shirt and dropped it to the floor beside her. Still holding her gaze he reached out his hand to her.

“Up.” 

She picked up the things on the floor beside her, took his outstretched hand in hers and let him lead her into the bedroom.

He left her standing in the middle of the room, slowly pacing around her, looking her up and down, inspecting her. Not unlike a predator examining its prey.

But the way he looked at her, the way he was breathing heavily, she could tell he was as affected by this as she was. _By her_.

It was unbearable, all of it, but what was worse, was not being touched. She knew he ached for her, as she did for him, his hands were twitching with desire to feel her. But his control was stronger and he would endure this. He would wait her out, edge her, until neither of them could stand it any longer.

She had placed the blindfold and whip on the bed; not sure if he’d use both or either, still not sure what she _wished_ for him to use. 

He took the blindfold, gently put it over her eyes and tied the ribbons behind her head. Yes, this was good. She liked this, not having to worry about accidentally looking at him when she wasn’t supposed to, her eyes deceiving her thoughts, always threatening to betray her.

She felt his breath ghosting over her shoulders, her neck, felt his jeans brush up against her arse. Felt _him_.

_Good God_. 

It had been an accident, she knew he hadn’t meant for her to feel him yet. But the mistake made him lose some of his control, and for a moment, he allowed them both to feel each other. 

Her knees buckled when his body became flkush with hers. His chest and stomach, taut and smooth against her back. His cock, rock-solid beneath the fabric of his trousers, pressed hard against her buttocks. She had to bite down hard on her lip to stifle the moan that wanted to escape her.

Rushes of heat soared through her. The need to be touched, to touch him, was greater than anything in this world. Yet she forced herself to stay as she was, clenching her fists by her sides, her knuckles whitening. 

“Claire.”

Her name, moaned into her hair, sounded more like a plea than anything else. A prayer. 

And then he stepped away. The loss of his body against hers was almost too much to bear. But whatever he had in store for her, she knew it would be worth it in the end; if she could endure this just a little while longer.

“What am I tae do with ye?” he said, his voice husky.

“The way ye look right now, standing there… Do ye realize what ye’re doin’ tae me? What kind of agony ye’re putting me in? Yer hair, long and wild, yer lips parted like that... It makes me want ye to drop down on yer knees and take me in yer mouth right this second.” 

He paused. She could hear him move around in the room. She could hear his breathing. She could sense his repressed eagerness. 

All _she_ could do was allow her body to react to his words, to let whatever happened, happen. 

“And that thing ye’re wearing… Christ...” She felt his fingertips brush against the lace of her bra. A whisper of a touch, one she barely felt but it made her catch her breath. 

“Do ye want more?” he paused. “Nod if ye want more.”

She nodded. Stifled a whimper. Tried not to squirm, to not rub her thighs together, to not say _please_. 

She felt his fingers again, now on her nipples, gently pinching them through the material. 

_Oh good lord._

The sensation shot through her, right to her heated centre.

“Ye like that?” 

She nodded again. 

So he gave it another pinch, this time a little harder. Pulled and twisted her sensitive nipple, until she had to bite down hard on her lip to stop herself from crying out loud.

Jamie reached around her and unclasped her bra, his face coming close to hers. Closer than he’d been since he arrived and she instinctively leaned into him, into his scent. His hot breath now on her chin, his lips ghosting her ear, gracing the delicate spot right underneath her earlobe. Feeling the tip of his tongue. _Fuck_. This was torture. Wonderful, delicious torture that she welcomed with everything she was.

He lingered there for a moment, so close, but not nearly close enough. His hands wandered across her back, reassuring her, as if he was saying, _it’s ok baby, I’m right here, I got you._

And she knew he did. Every time. All the time. 

Once again he stepped back, cleared his throat.

“Get on the bed,” he commanded. 

He took her hand and helped her step closer, until the end of the bed touched her legs, and then let her do the rest on her own.

By this point she was practically dripping with arousal. As she climbed onto the bed with shaking legs and then crawled on all fours higher up, she knew he must see and smell it on her. 

“That’s right, go on. Such a good lass.”

His words made it worse, the way he spoke to her. The throbbing between her thighs now turned into an aching need, so excruciating she doubted she would make it through the night - not without ruining ‘the game’. All she wanted was him. She needed him too much, to the point of desperation. 

She stopped in the middle of the bed, waiting on him, on what his next move - or order - would be. But he just stood there, watching her, or so she assumed. All she could hear was his raspy breathing. 

She wanted to press her thighs together to create some sort of friction, to give her some kind of a release, but she didn’t dare at this point. Instead, she kept waiting, until finally a command, his voice deeper still.

“On yer back.” 

It felt a little better once she laid on her back, the satin sheets caressing her skin, causing her to shiver. She subtly pressed her arse down on the bed, rocked ever so slightly to release some of the ache. 

“Be still.”

_Shit, he had seen_.

His weight on the bed made her heart race faster. ‘ _Please please please’_ , she thought, ‘ _please give me something’._

And he did. But not until he had fastened her wrists with the soft rope and tied the endings to the bed poles. 

“Spread yer legs,” he growled. 

She could detect a slight tremble in his voice. A tell. He was in despair as well, needing her just as much. She thought about how painfully hard he must be, how he probably wanted nothing more than to rip those jeans off and take her, fuck her hard and fast, just to get off. She felt herself clench at the thought and new waves of heat coursed through her, her panties getting even wetter. 

When he finally started touching her, she almost cried with relief. He began at her collarbones, softly caressing her porcelain skin with his fingertips, her shoulders and arms, back down past her underarms, her sides, before travelling up to her breasts. It was soothing and gentle, but it also started little fires underneath her skin wherever he touched; fires that made her entire body burn and tremble. He paused with his hands cupping her breasts, just feeling them against his palms, the familiar weight of them. She knew he revelled in how they felt, and looked, even after years of getting to know them. 

“I want tae hear ye now mo chridhe, I want tae know how I make ye feel.”

He straddled her waist and pressed his palm against her already hardened nipples, circling and kneading her breasts, pinching and pulling at her nipples— carefully at first, then after a while, more forcefully. His touch drew out loud moans from deep inside her, and she couldn’t help but whimper when the pain he inflicted turned into pleasure. 

Squirming underneath him and unable to help herself, she ground her thighs against each other, trying desperately to ease some of the relentless pressure building inside of her, to bring her closer to the edge. 

He bowed down and licked her lips, let her taste him, welcomed her tongue when she eagerly licked his in return and let her explore his mouth. He kissed her with uncontrolled hunger, and growled when she sucked at his tongue. 

As the kiss deepened, she felt him press down on her, moaning into her mouth as she moaned into his. She sucked on his bottom lip, biting down on it until she tasted blood. And she felt it, how he sunk into her even more, moved on her, pressed his hardened length against her stomach. 

He was as eager for release as she was. 

Occasionally, he’d let go of her mouth to explore her jawline, her neck, her chest. Sucking and nibbling at her delicate skin, leaving little red marks in his mouth's trail across her flesh, only to lick at the bruises on his way back, to sooth it. 

It was delicious, the feeling of being devoured, of being so thoroughly enjoyed by another human being. He hummed and grunted, let his chest and stomach be in constant contact with her, all the while straddling her waist so as not to touch where she most craved to be touched.

The aching had turned into a dull throbbing, deep inside her core. Her lips between her thighs were so overly sensitive and swollen, even the slightest movements of her hips made the soft lace between her thighs chafed against them, causing a wave of pleasure that rippled through her entire body. 

She needed more. Something, anything. 

Finally he continued his mouth’s journey across her body, down her belly, her hips, her thighs. His hands trailing after, roaming all over her, until she felt him situated himself between her legs, his strong determined hands spreading her legs wide, holding her firmly in place. 

Again, she knew he was watching her. Revelling in the sight before him. 

She felt his fingers pressed down on the soft flesh of her thighs, moving downwards in circular motions but stopping when his fingertips reached the hems of her panties. 

That almost caused her to scream with frustration. She rocked her bum against the bed ever so slightly, trying to get his hand closer to her center, but he stopped. 

"Christ, the sight of ye…" 

His voice was low, rough. His own arousal was obvious by the way he had trouble speaking. 

"Tell me what ye want, lass. Tell me how tae make it better." 

She was sobbing, the agony she was in overwhelmed her. It felt like she had no control over anything, not over her feelings, not over her thoughts, not over what she might say.

Exactly like it was supposed to be.

"Please," she whimpered, "please, touch me…"

"Touch ye where?"

"Oh God! Between my legs… There… Just… I can't anymore…"

"Yes ye can Sassenach, ye're doing sae good. Just tell me, say it and ye’ll get what ye want."

"I need it so bad Jamie… Please… Please touch me, touch my cunt." 

The sound he made when she said _that_ word, was nearly enough to send her over the edge. It was primal, guttural, contained all the lust he felt in that very moment.

And with that, he obeyed.

He put his hand where she had wanted it to be since he stepped through the door.

Slowly he pressed his thumb against her heated centre and they both gasped. He, from feeling how ready she was. She, from the sensation of finally feeling his hands on her. Unable to help herself, she moved against his hand, rocked her hips in time with his touches. 

That was a mistake.

His left hand left her thigh and pressed firmly against her pelvis, held her down against the mattress. 

“No,” he said, his voice stern and decisive. “If ye want this, ye stay still.”

She stopped moving immediately, tried to relax into his touch instead of fighting for more. 

His thumb was still rubbing teasingly up and down her slit through the soaked fabric. She could tell he had to focus on not giving her too much at once, but _oh God,_ she needed more. This wasn’t nearly enough, but it, all the same, sent wave after wave of pleasure through her, making her moan and shudder. The feeling was so intense, she had to fight against the urge to roll her hips in search for more. 

She then felt him pressed his other thumb a bit higher up against her delicate bundle of nerves, now swollen and aching, whilst continuing grinding up and down with the other, creating a rhythm, a pattern, which heightened the sensation even more. She was no longer aware of what sounds she was making, too lost in the feeling and the urge for release now within reach, so close her head was spinning.

_So good, so very good, just a bit more. Oh please… A little more, harder, oh God... That’s it yes, yes. Yes_...

And then nothing.

Emptiness. 

Her core was twitching, pulsating, missing what she had a short moment ago. 

“No, no, Jamie, no please,” she whimpered, tears stinging behind her eyes. She was shaking her head, trying to breathe through the panic she felt.

She could hear his staggered breathing as he held her steady with big strong hands, stroking the soft skin on the insides of her thighs with his fingertips, calming her, comforting her.

“Shhh,” he whispered. “It’ll be alright mo ghraidh, just breathe.”

Several heartbeats passed and she felt calmer as he kept stroking her, but the aching need was still there, burning her, on the verge of agony. 

Then he removed her underwear. 

Left her completely bare before his eyes. 

Although she couldn’t see him, she knew he was watching, admiring what he saw, licking his lips in anticipation. She knew he wouldn’t be able to resist licking her because he loved her taste, and more so, loved to make her come with his mouth, to drink her as she climaxed with his tongue deep inside her, his thumbs and fingers pressed against her slick flesh. 

He just couldn’t resist.

First, there was the bristly but soft stubble of his cheeks and chin, stroking her sensitive skin, his hot breath, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Then his lips, tickling, gracing, savouring, traveling closer and closer, making her shiver time and time again. And finally his tongue, pressing against her sweet, delicious flesh, tasting her carefully as if he was suppressing the urge to devour her completely. 

She trembled and whimpered, and tried to focus on her breathing so she wouldn’t pass out as he began to lick her. He dipped the tip of his tongue in between her folds, swirled it slowly around her most sensitive spot, only to go deeper - pushing it against her opening and lapping up and down her slit. 

He kept this going for a while, momentarily stopping to suck at her swollen lips or gently nibble at her clit. Slowly, he began building her up again, until all that existed in this world was his mouth and the pleasure he was giving her. And _him_. 

It didn’t take long for her to once again reach dangerously close to the edge, crying out with every swirl of his tongue, every rasp of his teeth against her clit. 

She knew he could tell by the way he could barely hold her down; her hips bucking against his strong hands in order to get closer to him. The way she quivered against his mouth, her pussy swollen and so wet, so much so that the covers under her arse soaked from it. But most of all from the sounds she made in response to what he was doing. How she was completely out of control and at his mercy.

“Fuck, Jamie. Oh god, please don’t stop. Oh my god yes, yes… Ooohhh Goood… I’m so close… Yes, yes, oh please…”

But he did stop. Just when she felt the glorious contractions begin to tremble deep in her core, when she felt the muscles in her thighs begin to tense, her pleadings turning into wordless cries, he stopped.

She screamed then. “No! No you fucking bastard no! Oh god, please, please, I’ll do whatever you want, please just let me come! Please!” 

Her voice, as always by this point, sounded like somebody else’s - raw, vulnerable and naked. She was completely lost to herself. She felt everything spinning, her entire body shaking from not getting what she desperately craved. Her insides pulsing, throbbing and aching like never before. She was hurting, hurting badly. 

She was barely aware that he was stroking her thighs and belly, murmuring calming words she couldn’t quite make out, in an effort to soothe her, to bring her back from the confused state she was in. 

Still trembling slightly, sobbing quietly, but after a while feeling better. 

When her breathing started to slow down again, she felt him softly touch the inside of her thighs, inching closer to her hot center. His thumb moved in a circle on her clit, before a finger, then two, moved inside her, drawing in and out of her tight, hot tunnel, stroking her insides just right. Then his mouth was on her again, sucking at her swollen nub in time with the thrusts of his fingers, creating a steady rhythm, bringing her fast to the edge once again. 

She had no words this time. She could only whimper and scream and roll her hips against his face and hand, chasing the release she so desperately craved.

But of course, it wasn’t time yet, and she knew it even before he stopped for the fourth time. She was too exhausted to be disappointed, but she also knew he wouldn’t let her down, as long as she did as he asked. And she was fully prepared to do whatever he wanted her too. 

When he disappeared from between her legs, her thighs fell to the side, her head tossing on the pillow, her belly heaving, trying to catch her breath. She was not aware that tears were trickling down the sides of her face and onto the pillow, just whined softly; her entire body hurting from all the built up tension, from being denied the relief she craved, _repeatedly_.

He wasn’t on the bed anymore, but then she heard it. He was undressing. 

The unmistakable sound of his jeans hitting the floor sent her spiraling again, had all her senses heightened in a heartbeat.

_He was naked now._

She knew he was watching her again, and she thought she could hear him touching himself. Carefully stroking his erection, just enough to ease some of the tension he must be feeling by now. 

_He must be hurting too._

She wanted to see him, and feel him, all of him. She needed every inch of that glorious body of his on hers, now. She wanted to grip and caress and bite at his flesh. Her hands twitched with desire to touch that smooth, velvety skin strained over bulging muscles. She could almost sense it already, how incredibly good his big hard cock would feel when he finally took her, stretching her, filling her, bringing her closer to completion with every thrust within her. 

In her confused and dazed state, those thoughts had her trying to get up from the position she was in, wanting to reach out to him. But the ropes hindered her movement and kept her in place. 

Her head fell back on the pillow, her chest heaving from exhaustion. 

"Please Jamie, please, I… I can't…" She was sobbing, pleading. "I can't do this… You have to… Just..." Her words trailed off as if she was unable to find the ones she needed, the words that would free her from the tormented state.

"I have tae what?" He growled.

The tone in his voice was sharp, a very specific edge to it that made her tremble, and she couldn’t help a moan escaping her lips. 

"I have tae… _What_ ?” he repeated. "I _need_ ye tae tell me, mo nighean donn. I need ye tae say it." 

Helplessly, she tugged at the ropes binding her wrists and turned her head from side to side, trying to figure out where he was in the room. She could hear him moving around but all she could see through the black piece of cloth covering her eyes, were shadows.

Sighing deeply and unable to take another moment of waiting, she gave in. Her entire body was trembling, but her voice was surprisingly steady as she said what he wanted to hear. 

"I need you to fuck me, Jamie. I need to be fucked. Now"

She suddenly felt his weight on her; skin on skin, mouth to mouth. They kissed deeply, hungrily. Biting at each other's lips, tongues fighting for dominance. It was messy and sloppy and urgent.

His hands, so gently caressing her wherever he could reach - grabbing, pressing, claiming her body until she knew there would be bruises. But she didn’t care because at last, he was here, he was almost close enough to her. _Almost_. 

His cock, hard and insisting, grinding against her painfully sensitive flesh. Swollen and wet, she coated him completely before he was even inside her. The tip of him pressed against her opening and it was _he_ who whimpered now, _he_ who needed and wanted her, trembling with desire.

She felt him lift himself off of her, sat back on his heels between her legs, and placed a pillow underneath her arse. Then his hands were on her face, carefully removing the blindfold that had been covering her eyes. Blinking against the dim light, she focused on the beautiful face above her.

“I need ye tae look at me,” he said. His voice deep, trembling with emotion. “I want tae watch ye.”

Eyes locked with hers, his hands tightly gripping her hips, he rubbed himself against her, slowly.

“Please…” she pleaded again, begging him one last time. 

With his eyes fixed onto hers, he pushed inside, inch by inch, until he was completely buried in her heat. She could feel him shaking as much as she was. Knew he was just as overwhelmed by the sensation of being so fully at one with another human being, as she was. 

She was already throbbing around him as he started to move inside her. His hands held onto her hips, pulling her against him. She felt as if she was floating; the sensations were everywhere. Every push of his cock felt in every fibre of her being, sending shockwaves throughout her entire body as he continued to fuck her, holding her in an angle that made her see stars. 

She wasn’t aware of the sounds she was making, or the sounds _he_ was making. 

All that existed in this moment was them. His ocean blue eyes staring into her whisky coloured ones, increasing the intensity of the pleasure coursing through her, bringing her closer and closer to climax. To bliss.

When he pressed his thumb against her clit and pushed down as he fucked her harder, her walls instantly clamped down around him and finally, she felt everything build and tighten as she came on him, hard. The orgasm washed over, and through her, releasing everything, bringing her to a place high up above, but deep, deep inside.

_Oh god, oh god, oh god, it’s too much, too good,_ _oh fuck, fuck, fuck..._

The pleasure seemed never-ending, almost too intense but he held on to her, forcing her to keep her eyes on him. But as he too reached his peak, he shut his eyes thight, his face contorted with pleasure, as he shuddered and released himself deep inside her. 

For just how long they rode the waves of bliss, lingering in the afterglow, she didn't know. She had closed her eyes when he fell down beside her on the bed, simply revelling in the feel of him. A small sigh had escaped her when he gently untied the ropes and pulled her close to his chest; trembling, dizzy, and deliriously happy. 

After a little while, Jamie got up from the bed to get some water and whisky, but not before he fetched a wet towel to wipe her clean with, and pulled the covers over her naked, shaking body. She had almost fallen asleep before he got back, but he forced her to drink a full glass of water and take a nip from the alcohole, before climbing into bed with her again. 

He kissed her neck and folded his strong, warm arms around her, cuddling her into his chest and belly; their legs intertwined with each other. 

“I love ye.” he whispered as he dozed off to sleep.

She didn’t answer, only smiled and kissed his hand that was tucked against her bare breast.

Lying there in a cocoon of warmth, safety, and love, she had only one thought on her mind, before she too drifted off to a dreamless and peaceful slumber.

_Completion_. 


End file.
